Of Tears and Teashops
by MinnieTheMaggot
Summary: Harry has a very wet dream.


My very first story - so something fairly short and light!

**Of Tears and Teashops**

**Summary: Harry has a very wet dream.**

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><p>Harry woke with a start, panting.<p>

His eyes flickered around, slowly registering the Gryffindor-red four poster he was in and the smell of sweaty covers. The only sound he could hear was Ron's muffled snores. He was safe! With a shaky breath he sat up, wiping the sweat from his brow with an equally clammy hand.

He had been dreaming again. No, not of Voldemort. At least not this time. Unfortunately he couldn't say that it had been some entrancing, sensual, Veela-induced saga either. Tonight he had been dreaming of Cho. That dreadful, disastrous episode at Madam Puddifoot's, to be specific.

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><p>It had started well enough – Harry might even have thought that it could have been some much-altered, smoother version of the date that his (admittedly wounded) conscience was conjuring up. One where Cho didn't flee in tears and he went back to the castle arm in arm with Ravenclaw's best asset.<p>

Alas, that wasn't the case. It seemed that his mind much preferred tormenting him even further! The afternoon played out in his head just as it had actually happened (and Harry winced in his bed every time that Cedric was mentioned, though he didn't know it.) As if he really needed to relive such an embarrassing meeting again!

But it got worse. Cho had risen – to run away sobbing, Harry knew, and he braced himself for it – except she didn't! She didn't move! She simply stood there crying. Now this was far worse than her leaving - at least then the humiliation stopped. Harry fidgeted awkwardly, avoiding her gaze and keeping his eyes on the glittery bowl of sugar; he was waiting for her to stop. Surely they could talk about this, couldn't they?

But she didn't stop. Seconds, minutes passed, and Harry began to fell irritated. He glared at the cherub above him when it sprinkled confetti down onto his head. People were looking: she was embarrassing them both! It was a step too far. In fact it was all a bit uncanny, come to think of it. Finally, Harry looked up to confront her – and his jaw dropped.

Cho was crying puddles. Literally! Her tears fell – no gushed! – in a constant stream down her face. They dripped onto the little table, drenching the frilly tablecloth a darker shade of pink. No, they positively _poured _from her eyes. You could have soaked a full set of robes with what was on the table and floor at this point.

Harry knew this was strange. Incredibly strange. And now absolutely everyone in the teashop was staring. The cherubs too! He was leaving right now! Harry pushed back his chair and…tried to get up. _Tried_. His backside was stuck to the chair! How dare-!

How dare who? Harry glared around at the other tables, at all the people who were still unabashedly staring. Which one had though it so funny to use some stupid, ultra-discreet Sticking Charm on him? He attempted to shift in his chair again. And damn them to hell if this was a Permanent Sticking Charm! Angrily and desperately, he stamped his feet – and SPLASH!

…Cho's tears were actually flooding the place. And now they were flowing faster than ever! He was surprised that Cho's eyelids didn't drag with the weight of those tears. Harry watched, panicked, as the salty sea that covered his feet got deeper and deeper. When at last it reached his knees he knew this too be simply too much! Not to mention slightly (very) frightening.

Heart racing, Harry twisted awkwardly and reached into his back pocket, so that he could get his wand and –

Wait.

_Where was his wand?_

Harry tried to shout but to his utter horror no sound came out. This – whatever it was – was bloody ridiculous! And NOT FUNNY. He knew looks couldn't kill but he was well and truly going to murder on the spot whichever one of Madam Puddifoot's customers had thought taking his wand was worth the laugh!

But there were none there. Harry looked up to find that he and Cho – whose lake was now upto Harry's midriff – were the only ones in the steamy room. Madam Puddifoot herself had vanished as well. Even the cherubs were gone.

Harry thought he was losing it.

Looking, aghast, at Cho's wet face, he knew he was losing it. She looked different. It wasn't only the fact that her eyes were like gushing taps; her face looked different. Her features were frozen, her mouth unmoving, and Harry saw that she wasn't blinking at all.

It was pretty unnerving, actually. How had he not noticed before_? No_, he thought wryly as he lifted his arms from his submerged sides in an effort to keep them dry, _she probably looked fine before. _After all, things were only getting worse in sequence.

As if in response to that train of thought, what noise that there had been, the chatter and bustle outside, promptly disappeared. It was silent. Groaning noiselessly, Harry swivelled his head (the swerve of his chin creating ripples in the water), in order to look outside through the giant window emblazoned with the words _Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop_.

There was nobody outside on the street, just as he'd expected. Not that he didn't feel worse seeing it. He was seriously afraid now. The sound of more tears than he knew could be cried was the only thing that interrupted the silence. In fact, where the rush from Cho's face met the rapidly rising flood it sounded like a waterfall. Bits of confetti, frills, bows and other decorations that could easily have come from Umbridge's office floated in the water.

Harry was undeniably petrified. Only his head was left above the water and his limbs felt heavy in it. He was going to drown, wasn't he? His heart pounded in his chest. Coughing and spluttering, he raised his head in a futile attempt to prevent the water getting to him. He gasped as the salty liquid infiltrated his mouth. For Merlin's sake! He was struggling to breathe now…

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><p>That was when Harry woke up.<p>

He was inexplicably glad to find himself in bed. And he'd never been gladder to hear Ron snoring away! Everything was fine – and more importantly, dry. Harry settled himself comfortably under his duvet. It had been just a dream. Quite a laughable one, too, now that he thought about it…

Yet Harry didn't sleep again that night.


End file.
